Not that his older brother disagreed: he had come to see the name of Melus as a talisman that could be trotted out without much attachment to sincerity, and the idea that the late leader’s son could oversee a revolt was just as disingenuous. Argyrus, as had already been proved, did not have the stature to compete with the likes of Guaimar or the Prince of Benevento, and if such powerful Lombards as they would not bow the knee to him, then these city states had a ready-made excuse to do likewise.
William’s eye was drawn to Kasa Ephraim, who stood well back, taking no part in the discussions, but with a half smile on his face. He, too, understood perfectly the nuances of the negotiations and the fact they were going nowhere. He had not had a chance to speak with the Jew since he arrived, but he knew he would. Ephraim had not come with Guaimar, but separately, two days after the prince, and he had yet to sit down with the Normans, William included, and contract his business.
But he was a wise old owl, a man who could see which way the wind would blow and plant his crops to avoid damage, to protect, in his case, his wealth. William was looking forward to talking with him, and seeking his views on what he was now witnessing, as the wrangling continued without any solution in sight.
‘I urge you to talk more amongst yourselves,’ Guaimar concluded, ‘and will gather again on the morrow.’
As the port envoys filed out of the great hall, Guaimar signalled to Rainulf, Arduin and William to join him in an antechamber. He was already on his way to that smaller room, his face dark with anger, before the others moved.
‘They must be made to bend the knee,’ he spat, as the door was closed behind William.
‘To whom?’ William asked.
Guaimar nearly spoke the truth and said ‘To me’, but he stopped himself, still wishing to uphold the fiction that he had no ambitions to be the man who ruled, falling back on the usual mantra. ‘To the revolt.’
‘Only force will persuade them,’ William said, then added, ‘the ability to breach their defences, and those, with stout walls in good repair, we lack.’
Being true did not make it palatable: the ports were rich enough to keep their defences in proper repair. It would require a fleet to block the harbour, need siege engines or trained men to sap under the walls and undermine them, as well as enough force to take advantage of any breach created by their efforts. Guaimar’s sour reaction gave Rainulf Drengot a chance to favour William with a look that implied he was fearful, which got the older man that de Hauteville smile which so infuriated those on the receiving end.
‘Arduin,’ Guaimar demanded, as though he would have the answer.
He had one, but it was not to the taste of the Prince of Salerno. ‘If you were to take the field, sire, and-’
‘What would Landulf of Benevento have to say to that?’ Guaimar interrupted.
He really meant Byzantium, who still had troops in Sicily, only a few days sailing from Salerno, and a massive fleet, should it be sent from Constantinople, to transport them to the bay on which his city stood. Benevento was, in terms of places to plunder on the coast, safe: the wealth of the principality was all in the interior. It was still too soon to openly declare himself.
‘Besides,’ Guaimar added, ‘I have still not fully subdued Amalfi.’
That was received with polite disbelief, but if others were troubled, William was quietly content. Dissension amongst the Lombards suited him and when the meeting broke up he emerged in good humour. Days went by in fruitless discussion, time in which William and his brothers could leave them to their quarrels and escort Kasa Ephraim the short distance to Melfi, there to discuss both how to send funds back to Hauteville-la-Guichard and secure a safe place for that which they intended to keep.
‘You do not trust the fortress of Melfi?’ Ephraim asked, amused, looking around the formidable walls.
‘We don’t trust the people we share it with,’ spluttered Humphrey, braying with laughter.
‘These two tried to kill me,’ William said, quite taken by the reddening of Listo’s cheeks, the reminder embarrassing him. Both now spoke good Latin: the boy’s sister Tirena understood as well, but was, as usual, less contrite, though she no longer looked at William with studied loathing.
‘And you spared them?’ asked Ephraim.
‘We had only just taken over the castle and the locals were fearful. It seemed a good way to show we were not here to plunder them.’
The Jew nodded. ‘You show more wisdom, William, than some of your fellows, who only know how to burn and lay waste. What do you have in mind for them?’
‘Listo here wants to be a soldier.’ That had the boy stretching, and though still small he had put on quite a few inches. ‘For Tirena, perhaps she will become wife to one of my lances.’
William hid a smile to see that look return. He had caught her more than once watching him from some place she thought hidden, that first day from atop the ramparts. She had also taken to carefully dressing her hair and seeking out fetching clothes, which given she too had grown and filled out, had revealed a comeliness that had not been apparent under her previous filth and demeanour. Drogo had to be warned off with the threat of a lance up his arse if he laid a hand on her.
‘It is interesting, my friend, is it not, that when the people of Melfi look to the castle, they see one of their number not only fed but cosseted?’
‘These two are hill people, goatherds, but you are right. It makes for a peaceful life.’
‘I am told your men are instructed to respect them too, on pain of dire punishment.’
‘We live amongst them, they grow our food; to despoil them is stupid, and one peasant with a sharp knife, loose in the paddocks or stud on a dark night, could do more damage than a regiment of Varangians.’
‘It would be especially foolish to plunder them if you have ambitions to rule over them.’
‘Like Prince Guaimar, you mean?’
The silence that followed that question, from a man who was not normally short of words, was telling. William could see Tirena was intrigued too, reminding him of what he had noted more than once: she had a sharp native intelligence, on this occasion able to discern an atmosphere which was not quite as it should be.
‘Listo, see to my friend’s goblet.’
‘I wonder,’ Kasa Ephraim said, without looking at William, instead examining his fingernails, ‘if you and I should talk about things until now left unspoken.’
‘The choice is yours.’
William was looking at the Jew with a curious expression: Ephraim was not one to break a confidence for him, nor did he think he would do it for Guaimar of Salerno, but he was clearly ruminating on something profound, fingering his refilled goblet in a way that implied calculation.
‘What, William, do you think are the chances of a Lombard kingdom in South Italy?’
‘I have the same thoughts on that as you.’
Ephraim smiled as though William had uncovered some secret, and he did not pretend surprise or ask a stupid question like how this Norman could know what was in his mind.
‘And even if it could be achieved, it could not sustain itself,’ William added. ‘The Lombards are not good at rule and they are especially not good at acting together. Petty jealousy would tear it apart.’
‘Not even if Guaimar was to declare himself?’
‘Your prince wants the spoils without the blood, which may serve in Amalfi, but is no way to command loyalty in this part of the world. Besides, he was appointed, or should I say restored, to his fief by the Western Emperor, Conrad. How do you think Constantinople would see his attempt to elevate himself from prince to king?’
‘They would see it as imperial encroachment.’
‘More to the point, my friend, the present Emperor of the West would see it as committing him to the defence of Apulia, and I think an imperial edict would come from Germany telling Guaimar to withdraw his candidacy lest he provoke a greater conflict.’
Ephraim nodded: the two remnants of the old Roman patrimony lived in a mutual regard based on never driving the other to feel threatened. Thus, for years, Byzantium had stayed out of Campania, while Bamberg had avoided encroaching on Apulia.
‘Did you know, William, I have a wife and children?’
‘No, but it does not surprise me.’
‘I often think what I will leave them, apart from what I own.’
‘What do you wish to leave them?’
‘That which any son of Abraham wishes to bequeath to his offspring, a secure place in which to live. That is
